Finding myself completely and utterly unprepared for a long distance trip is an understatement. By the time I had figured out all I needed to pack, and actually get the packing done, I managed to get about 1 ½ to 2 hours of sleep, before the alarm went off to accommodate an Oh-dark 3:45 departure from my home in Hillsboro, MO. This was so that I could meet up with Mike at his work, then “carpool” our way to the airport, and the parking garage nearby. At the garage, Mike and I hurriedly threw our bags together, packing the tripods in a common bag, and also throwing the tripod heads into his bags, with the thought of the airport security recordings dinging in my head. “If anyone asks you to carry unknown baggages or objects…”. And so, what happened in my foggiest at 04:30AM, is I managed to forget to add a couple of power adapters and cables to the mix that were important to the operation of the computer, and when you shoot digital, the computer is a necessary evil. However, on top of that, I had packed several radios in my oversized computer bag and so that we could monitor the ATCS radio transmissions, and in this terrific mess of cables and wires, the crucial bits that were left behind were easily overlooked.
My last TSA adventure on a biz trip to Salt Lake City, turned up a new rule at the security checkpoint, in that ALL large electronics must be removed from your carry-on bags for inspection and x-ray. My camera bag, caught me in a pickle the last time, even after I asked one of the security agents about it, and they told me it was fine. So I went in suspecting that not only my camera bag, but my computer bag would generate lots of interest, thus Mike and I made sure we were there in plenty of time. After putzing around with the kiosk check-in computer to check our luggage, and the computer not being able to find our reservation, panic was starting to set-in, but fortunately I realized that I had already printed my boarding passes the night before, and was able to show the ticket agent that I indeed had a reservation. After arriving in the security line, I realized (and didn't want to anyway) that there was no way I was going to unpack my camera gear and my radio gear, and not completely and utterly screw the security line, so I just feigned my way through, like I didn't have a clue, knowing that I would likely get stopped. Well, I did, but not quite as I had imagined. The TSA yodel was yelling at me for not pulling this stuff out before hand, and for ignoring what he was yelling out to everyone. It was quite comical actually, although at the time I was rather P.O.ed that he was making an example out of me and an a$$ out of himself. He proceeded to manhandle my computer bag, yanking out the two commercial mobile radios I had lugged along for the ATCS stuff, spilling wires everywhere. After a short delay while the radios were re-run through the x-ray machine, and a good ‘ole ass chewing, plus reassembling my bag, I was on my way. I told him while he was grumpily examining the rest of my bag that I wasn’t trying to 'dis him, just the hassle of taking the crud out while in line was more disruptive than having him doing it after I went through the line. He damn near jumped over the table trying to strangle me, but then realized the folly of his ways, since I out sized him by nearly double. My camera bag had apparently escaped unchallenged, probably in the mayhem surrounding the radios. Mike, who blew through security with ease, was busting a gut as I hustled around the corner towards NWA Gate A5. We were one of the last ones on the plane, but still made it in reasonable time. After a quick couple of games of NHL 07 on the PSP, we were arriving in Minneapolis.
We had a long layover in Minny, and already, the unprepared late night was taking a toll on Mike and I. Mike got in so late from work on Thursday night, that he actually never went to bed. We found some breakfast eats at a Quizno’s, then headed to the gate, in the A Concourse. As many times as I’ve flown through Minny, I’ve never been through the A gates before. Our plane was late, and we had to switch gates once, and after trying to charge up some of my camera and PSP batteries, it dawned on me we were flying one of those Canadair Regional Jets (CRJ’s), that I desperately try and avoid when booking most of my flights. After several harrowing experiences on US Airway Embraer jets, and one in particular while on approach to Pits-bug, I vowed never to fly on a regional jet again, unless there was absolutely no other alternative. I knew we would be on one when I booked these flights, because there was no alternative, but I guess I let it slip my mind to avoid worrying about it, but nonetheless, I was startled to discover that this would be our 2 ½ hour aluminum tube ride to Kalispell.
Our departure was late, of course, but I could tell our 1:10 arrival in Kalispell wouldn't matter much, as Mike's eyes were already bloodshot red. About this time, I realized that the regional jets are one bag carry-on only, as opposed to the 1x1 on larger jets. This created a panic, as I suddenly realized that my computer bag would have to go the way of Valet checked bags, not something I wanted to do, especially since it was my work laptop I had lugged along. Better the computer though, than the camera gear. So I watched with much chagrin as I laid my computer bag on the valet cart, and headed to board the plane. As we trudged down the aisle, I panicked again, realizing that my camera bag might not fit in the smaller overhead compartments of the CRJs. I had to pull a bunch of stuff off the top of the camera bag to make it fit, literally cramming my bag into the overhead, with all the other stuff from the top of my bag stuffed into the backside seat pockets. Mike's bag barely fit under the seat, but the cramped cabin put him in an uncomfortable position the entire flight, scrunched at the feet. I nearly killed the gal in the seat behind us when I tried to remove my camera bag from the overhead, yanking so hard on it to get it out, I nearly crashed head-over heels backwards into the poor lady, if a head over-heels stunt would actually work in the cramped cabin of a CRJ.
Upon our arrival, I was still in my shorts and tee shirt, and I quickly decided that the 90 degree heat we left in St. Louis didn't actually accompany us, so I changed into bluejeans, but left the shirt on (Note that my criteria for not wearing shorts is, I quit after the first snow). This adventure brought back memories of a trip Mike and I took in 1991, where upon leaving St. Louis in 80 degree weather, after an all day drive, we arrived in Cheyenne with the temp hovering around the freezing point, similarly dressed in shorts and a tee shirt. I was the focus of hysterical laughter by the hotel staff, which included a rather nice looking young woman, and of course Mike has never laid that to rest. "Hadn't snowed yet", I said at the time... Originally we had reserved an intermediate size sedan from Avis, but upon urging from my wife, after hearing about the heavy snow warnings and high wind and blowing snow advisories from earlier in the week, I also reserved an SUV. This created a bit of confusion at the Avis desk in Kalispell, but I finally got it straightened out. Finding ourselves in a Subaru Tribeca (what the hell is a Tribeca), we decided to trade back for a Chevy Trailblazer, which was more utilitarian and quite a bit less fancy, but we were more interested in functionality than style, so it was a better fit overall, and much to my wife's credit, actually helped us quite a bit in the first couple of days.
A quick stop at the Wendy's in Whitefish, plus a phone call to the boss to make sure I was covered while away, and then for snacks for later on at West Glacier, and we were on the way. Snacks with us is usually and understatement, but then again, that's another story.
The drive up the hill towards Essex was relatively uneventful, but there was some mist and some fine sleet coming down. Not sure what to do, we decided to just follow the tracks and hopefully run into something, which we did. However, we passed these trains because of the very dark overcast conditions, in hope of better conditions on the hill east of Essex. I've gotten in a bad habit of not shooting in anything less than ideal weather, which is a practice I need to eliminate as there can be some spectacular shots in cloudy weather, and you can prosper on shots not normally obtainable with bright sunlight.
As we approached Summit, snow was sticking quite well to everything except the roadway, thankfully. Visibility was not terrible at this point, but the clouds and snow were enough that we could not see any of the surrounding mountains. After popping over the top at Summit, the winds really started to pick up. We caught up to an eastbounder somewhere near East Glacier, and decided to make a run for it to the east bridge at Browning. The snow had really kicked in and was really coming down, although in fine size flakes. Arriving there in reasonable time in front of the train, Mike exited the vehicle (or at least attempted to exit), and came quickly rushing back in. Spit frozen to his goatee, his face instantly blue, he muttered something about not being ready for this, and that his windbreaker was not sufficient protection in the nearly whiteout conditions and very blustery wind. I chided him for being a wussy, but promptly put on my coat before heading out for the shot, turning my navy blue St. Louis Cardinal cap backwards on my head to prevent losing it (which has been a common occurrence in the past). We got the shot , then flipped over to the other side to await the arrival of a westbounder.
Again, we got the shot, although it wasn't nearly as good as the EB, and I noticed a strange sensation in my hands at this point, and upon my observation, they were a color that is typically not considered human (or at least a human that is still kicking). I couldn't feel them either. Now it wasn't really all that cold, but the wind was ridiculous. Mike informed me that he had forgotten to bring his gloves. Great. At this point, we decided to proceed back to the IWI, check in and get ready for the slide show.
Visibility was pretty poor by now, and the trek back through Browning was excruciatingly slow. Realizing that the WB was keeping up with us, we thought we might try and get another shot of him before it got too dark. Driving up one of our favorite access roads between Bison and Summit, we waited and shot the train (or at least I did), before heading back. Mike complained about some problem or other, which at the moment slips my mind
Our late lunch and the snacks we had accrued pretty much ruled out any need for dinner, and Mike had already crumpled up on the bed. Feeling rather wasted myself, I wandered over to the Signal Room, and told Paul Birkholz that because of a busy schedule over the last few weeks, I hadn't had time to put a show together, so I would just throw some shots from this trip for my show, but I was too tired to be present tonight (and three shots hardly make a presentation), and headed back over to room #4 on the ground level, facing the tracks. Besides, when Charlie Dischinger threatened to show wedding pictures at the show, bailing was no longer just an option. Room #4 and Room #1 have been our Alta-Mont residence every year with the exception of the first. I was ready to take a peek at today's shots, and have a webcam visit with the wife and kid. At this juncture, I suddenly discovered that those missing crucial bits were a portion of my power supply to my computer. I had the part that works from the car, but not the part that works from a standard 120V plug. Brilliant. So much for the conversation with the wife, as the battery was already run-down, and so much for looking at pictures, let alone taking a look at the data from logging ATCS stuff…Now what to do? The only solution was to take my computer to the car, and let it charge up overnight. Now those that don't know, last year I was diagnosed with Narcolepsy, and I take Pro-Vigil to help keep me awake during the day. It can do funny things sometimes, and this was one of those times. Seems as though the rush of adrenaline when I discovered my missing pieces caused my Pro-Vigil to kick the after-burner in, and suddenly, after being sleepy enough to keel over at any second, I felt wired to the brim. So in some distorted method of madness, I decided to head up the hill towards Summit by myself, and try to ID and then decode some of the ATCS information that would help us over the next couple of days. As I neared Summit, the wind and snow really started to kick in again, and an eastbounder that had passed by the Inn earlier that evening went into emergency just a couple hundred yards shy of the Summit switch, with me driving right along side.
Pushing on to East Glacier, I sat there for quite awhile, watching the parade of trains work their way around the stranded train, and all the while, madly trying to ID and decode the data. I actually made quite a lot of progress, although I still had some holes to fill…It was still snowing when I headed back down the hill, and I quickly went to sleep upon returning (after a game of NHL 07, of course. Since Mike is the goalie for our geriatric ice hockey team, I've plugged him into the game as my goalie on the PSP. Plays just like in real life, with a sunburn on his neck...<g>). Mike never knew that I had left or returned…